The SCP Experience - Fire and ICE | SCP-7088

Episode Date: June 8, 2025

Isiah Rushfield didn’t ask to inherit 18,000 acres of Texas wilderness—or the ancient creatures sleeping beneath it. But when government agents start sniffing around the family land, he’s forced to make a decision: feed what’s hiding in the caverns, or risk what happens when it comes looking for a meal. This story was derived from ⁠⁠⁠https://scp-wiki.wikidot.com/scp-7088⁠ and is released under Creative Commons Sharealike 3.0. ⁠⁠⁠https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/3.0/⁠⁠⁠ Author: Jake Bible * * * DISCLAIMER: This episode contains explicit content. Parental guidance is advised for children under the age of 18. Listen at your own discretion. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

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Isaiah knows this, and has even been alerted to the fact that there are a few undercover agents in town, but he has no choice. It's either drive out to the caverns or risk what's in the caverns venturing out to feed on their own. And he can't have them roaming about again. Even if the Rushfield's land is a good 20 miles outside of the quiet town. Damn it, Granddaddy, Isaiah mumbles, as he points the Jeep toward the northeast gulch that sits about halfway across the 18,000 acres the Rushfield's own. Why'd you buy these damn things? Even though the gulch has bordered by thousands of acres of private land, Isaiah has been watching the news.

He's been reading between the lines. Ice may say they are only going after illegal immigrants who have committed crimes, but Isaiah knows better. They're hunting dragons. That's what they're doing. And Isaiah happens to have a whole brood of them living on the Rushfield land, brought over in the 60s by his oil tycoon grandfather. Then his grandfather passed away suddenly, leaving the brood to Isaiah's father to deal with.

For 30 years, Matthew Rushfield tended to the creatures. making it his personal mission to ensure they thrived in their Texas environment, which was a far cry from the British Isles. Then, just like his daddy before him, Matthew Rushfield died of a heart attack while playing golf with two state senators, and once again, taking care of a bunch of dragons was the oldest son's responsibility, that oldest son being Isaiah. It is a responsibility that Isaiah neither asked for nor wants.

The Jeep hits a rut, and Isaiah nearly bounces up out of his seat. But he gets the vehicle under control and presses on the gas pedal, eager to get to the caverns before the sun sets. His cell phone rings. Hey, Tanya, what's? But before he can finish, his older sister blurts out. The cops are here. Isaiah clears his throat and thinks for half a second.

Cops? Like Sheriff Brown? Isaiah asks, hoping it's just local law enforcement. them he can deal with. Nope. Tanya replies. Feds. Someone is talking close to Tanya, and Isaiah strains to hear what the person is saying,

but the crunch of the jeep's tires and roar of its engine are too loud. Tanya? Tanya, what the hell is going on? Isaiah asks. He sees a very specific culvert ahead and knows he's close. When he reaches it, he turns east, skirting the edge of the culvert. Tanya, talk to me.

Hold on, hold on. Tanya shouts. Not you, Isaiah. I'm talking to these dill holes. There's some shouting in the background. Oh, yeah? It's my goddamn constitutional right to call you and any other dill hole. A fucking dill hole!

Jesus, she's going to get herself arrested, Isaiah thinks. The culvert curves to the south, but Isaiah keeps the Jeep pointed east. Tanya, tell me what's happening. Isaiah shouts into his phone. It's ice. She finally says. says. Are you sure? Am I sure? Yeah, I'm fucking sure. They have ICE on their stupid vests and shit. Yeah, I called your best stupid. What are you going to do about it? What? Hey, get your damn

hands off me. Isaiah shakes his head. He'd close his eyes and take a few deep breaths, but he can't stop the Jeep. Definitely not now. So he takes a few deep breaths with his eyes open while he waits for the chaos on the other end of the phone to sort itself out. Mr. Rushfield, man's voice asks. Where are you at this moment? Can't your satellites track me? Isaiah spits back. He knows they can't.

The entire 18,000 acres are covered by a private cell phone and Wi-Fi network he had installed during the pandemic. Isaiah paid a pretty penny to make sure the network was immune to government snooping. He drops a small fortune each month to keep the network up to date. with the latest counter-espionage software and protocols. And it all runs on solar and wind power. Not that Isaiah is some hippie-dippy, tree-hugging earth-fucker, like some of those freaks over in Austin.

Nah, it just makes good economic sense. Unlike having a brood of dragons on the property, that makes zero sense. Name is Agent Fleischer. Isaiah can hear his sister in the background screaming at someone. He doesn't envy that person. Same! Good for you! Your parents must be proud, Isaiah says. Yes, well, we'll leave my parents out of this. Agent Fleischer responds.

Do you know why we're here? We don't hire illegals. No, we're not here because of that. Isaiah's blood runs cold. And why are you here? A colleague of mine, someone tech-savvy, was hunting through old case files when he came across a manifest from 1963. The agent goes quiet. Isaiah knows it's a tactic designed to ratchet up his anxiety and get him to spill the beans on his own. But he's a Rushfield and a damn Texan. He ain't spilling no beans for the goddamn beds.

Would you like me to tell you what was on that manifest? Agent Fleischer asks after he breaks the silence. Isaiah smiles to himself, happy to be throwing the agent off his game. Cut to the chase, Agent Fleischer. What do you want? In 1963, your ground. father, Tobias Rushfield, signed for six large crates that were labeled livestock. It was tough tracking that receipt down since your grandfather used a number of shell companies to get that livestock from Northern England to Texas.

The crates came in through Galveston, which is not the usual port for animal imports. Your point? What was in those crates, Mr. Rushfield? You're asking me? I am. Isaiah spots a cluster of mesquite trees and heads. north. You know I wasn't even born then, right? How would I know it was in a bunch of crates my granddaddy had shipped from Birmingham? The agent doesn't respond, and Isaiah pulls his phone

from his ear and looks at it. No, the call hadn't dropped, so he waits. I never said the crates came from Manchester. Isaiah curses himself. He slams his palms on the steering wheel and wants to scream at the top of his lungs. You said Northern England, Isaiah says after calming himself. That's the only city I know in Northern England. Liverpool is in Northern England. Is it? Yes. Okay, great. Now I know two cities. What was in the crates, Mr. Rushfield? That was before I was born. Yes, he said that. But what you haven't done is answer my question. What was in the crates? Isaiah knows the man won't give up. He's only asking the questions in order to build his case. Isaiah is more than sure Agent Fleischer knows what was in those crates.

The man may be having a hard time believing it, but he knows. Listen, Agent Fleischer was it? Yes. Well, Agent Fleischer. I'm sorry, but I can't say what was in those crates. I wasn't there. You can't say or won't say. Both.

I won't say because I can't know. So, in the 60-plus years since those crates arrived in Galveston, No one in your family has spoken about them? I think you answered your own question. Isaiah was no lawyer, but he knew how to twist a conversation around on itself. His daddy taught him that. But I'm not asking you so I can answer. I need to hear you say it.

No problem, Isaiah says, and then slows the Jeep. He's close. Leave you contact information with my sister, and I'll have my lawyer set up an appointment. We're past appointments, Mr. Rushfield. We have a warrant to search the property. You do? All 18,000 acres? Agent Fleischer doesn't respond. Oh, I see, Isaiah says in chuckles.

What exactly does that warrant cover? Well, you can read it if you return to the house, Mr. Rushfield. I'm a little busy at the moment, so why don't you give me the highlights? Agent Fleischer sighs. I'm not here to play games, Mr. Rushfield. Come back to the house so we can talk. or I will have to conduct a thorough search of the premises. And my guys are a little wellmed up right now.

I'd hate for any of this precious artwork your family has collected over the years to get damaged. Isaiah arrives at his destination, and he stares out the dusty windshield of the Jeep at the opening to the caverns. A shiver goes up his spine. Isaiah puts his phone on speaker, then swipes through apps until he comes to the one he wants. He studies the screen for a moment. anger boiling as he watches ice agents stomped through his family's home. His sister is handcuffed with her arms behind her back and sitting on a barstool in the kitchen while an ice agent stands guard next to her.

Agent Fleischer? Yes, Mr. Rushfield. Look up and to your left for me, will you? Do what? Isaiah watches on his phone as an agent, who he assumes as Fleischer, looks around, then cranes his neck, and looks up and to his left. You can't see me, but I can see you. Isaiah says. The second your men stepped onto our property, my surveillance system started recording.

Go ahead and trash my home. Go ahead and destroy irreplaceable artwork. Do what you have to do. Just know that all of it will be documented and used against you in the civil suit. Isaiah lets that settle in for a bit before continuing. I am sure you have already had a peek at our finances, so you know the Rushfield estate has the means to fight even the federal government in court for years. Although, since your threat has been recorded, I am sure we'll have a civil suit against you personally too,

especially once you are let go from your position, orphaned by your agency, and left all alone defend for yourself. Isaiah was really twisting the screws. He usually didn't go so hard so fast. His daddy had always taught him that charm comes first before fists. Get your opponent relaxed and on your side, then sucker punch them right in the kisser. But Isaiah has to go for the sucker punch right away. So, let me ask you a question, Agent Fleischer. Do you have the resources to take on the Rushfield estate?

It should only cost a few hundred grand in legal fees. You've got that kind of cash just sitting around, I'm sure. Agent Fleischer sighs again. I'll leave my card, Mr. Rushfield. Have your lawyer call me. We will have a little chat, and you will answer my questions. Sounds like a date, Agent Fleischer. Now uncuff my sister and give her phone back to her, will you please?

Then get you and your men the fuck off my property. Goodbye, Mr. Rushfield. The line goes dead, but Isaiah keeps watching the surveillance feed. Agent Fleischer glances up at the camera and waves. Then he starts barking orders, and room by room, the ice agents clear out. The last thing Fleischer does is set Tanya's phone on the kitchen counter. Then he walks out of the house, leaving Tanya still hammed. handcuffed on the bar stool.

Isaiah can't hear the words, but he's pretty sure he knows what his sister is screaming. Crap, he mutters, then stuffs his phone in his pocket and grabs a flashlight from the passenger seat. He also grabs a plastic bag filled with random items he picked up at the dollar store. When he gets out of the Jeep, his boots crunch and he looks down. Bones. A lot of bones. Cattle bones. God damn it. Damn it, Isaiah says, then heads toward the caverns. He flicks on the flashlight, hesitates for a moment, then plunges into the darkness.

The caverns are limestone, just like most cave systems in Texas. Isaiah has been in a few gypsum caves up north, but those are rare. The entrance to the cavernous plain, almost boring. Just a big opening that has been slowly eroded by the Texas weather over the centuries. But as Isaiah goes deeper and follows a couple of bends, the scene soon is filled with stalactites and stalagmites, products of millennia of mineral heavy water dripping from the ceiling. Weaving his way around the stalagmites, some of which are taller than he is, Isaiah navigates deeper and deeper into the caverns until he comes to a good-sized body of almost crystal-clear water.

Hello? He calls and sets the dollar store back down by the edge of the edge of the edge of the area. of the water. Kevin? Isaiah rolls his eyes at the name. He never understood how a creature that his daddy said was older than the U.S. of A itself could have a name like Kevin. But apparently, the dragons, or Nuckers as they call themselves, are partial to names that begin with K. And Kevin is an old Irish name from before the 6th century. Still, Isaiah is not a fan of talking to a dragon named Kevin. Kevin! The water stirs from across the cavern, well out of reach of the flashlight's beam. Isaiah waits patiently until a long, dark form comes swimming gracefully through the pool of water,

and over to the small beach where Isaiah is standing. Hello. The head that surfaces is covered in thick scales, but not rigid ones like the legends. Dragons, from what Isaiah has witnessed, aren't armored beasts, but just amphibians who prefer dark and wet caves to fire and sky. Isaiah isn't even sure these dragons can fly. They have wings, yes, but they are small. And while he's not an aeronautical engineer, he's pretty sure tiny wings can't lift the bulk of the creature that is before him. Hello, Kevin. How are you? You come to trade? Kevin asks, his voice a rolling grumble of thick gravel.

Sort of. Sorta. What sort of? Isaiah rolls his eyes again. His granddaddy taught the dragon to say partner, not partner with a T, but partner with a D. Granddadi wanted to get rid of that British Isles crap and teach his dragon some proper Texan. Although Isaiah hasn't ever said partner in his life,

he's always pronounced the T. But that was Grandaddy. I know, I know, but things have gotten strange. So I need you to do me a favor. Can you do that? Nucker. no favor. Nucker trade. You trade? Yes, of course. Isaiah picks up the dollar store bag and pulls out a yo-yo. He flips it up and down a few times. The water splashes behind Kevin as he swishes his tail back and forth in the pool, obviously pleased with the sight of the yo-yo.

Yes, yes, yes. Kevin says, trade that. What you want, partner. I want you and the brood to stay in these caverns for a while, no matter what? You can't leave at all. When was last time you ate? Kevin doesn't answer. Isaiah knows to wait. Dragons take their time when thinking. If you are a creature who can live for thousands of years, you'd take your time thinking too. 27 moons. Jesus? Two years? Isaiah rubs his face. If that's the case, then the whole brute is going to need to feed soon, like really, really soon. Why so long, Kevin? Kevin, no. Isaiah can't help it laugh. The put-on pants joke was a favorite of his daddy's. He must have taught it to Kevin. Trade for joke. What? Isaiah asks. Trade for joke.

Choke. Joke funny. Make Isaiah laugh. You trade. Fair enough, Isaiah says, and fishes out a pack of dice. Oh, good, good. Kevin says. Kira lost all dice. You have plenty now. Thanks for the joke. Why brood steak caves? Good question.

Trade? No, Kevin. I'm not trading because you asked a question. Good question. Doesn't matter. Matter? No, it doesn't. I'm not trading with you because you asked a question.

If anything, you have to trade with me so I answer the question. That's how it works. Not how works. Kevin say how works. That's so? Fine. I'll take this bag of treasure and leave then. If you want to leave the caverns, then leave the caverns. It's your funeral. Isaiah tucks the yo-yo into the bag, and Kevin growls low, sending ripples across the pool. You trade. I don't make trade if you stay. Isaiah clears his throat. He always ends up sounding like them when he comes to the caverns.

What I mean to say is that if you would like the yo-yo, then you have to keep up your end of the trade. You and the bull. Brood must stay in the caverns. Isaiah waits while Kevin thinks, and thinks, and thinks. He's about to say something when Kevin grunts. You trade, we stay. Isaiah took the yo-yo back out and set it down. Yeah, I figured that might be the case. I'll have Clem bring a few head of cattle for you all to snack on.

That should last you a few months. Maybe longer. Is that so? That's so. Brug lazy. It's summer. Texas is hot. I hear you there, pal. I hear you there. What else, trade?

Kevin shifts and moves closer. His dank dragon breath puffing out of his nose, nearly blowing Isaiah's hat off his head. The dragon eyes the dollar store bag. Trade more. Well, I've gotten what I need, so the rest of this is gifts for you and the brood. Difts? Not trade?

Not trade. Brew do nothing for gifts? Just stay in the caverns. Good trade, solid trade. Isaiah pulls out the rest of the items and lays them out on the ground. A black spatula, two birthday candles, both in the shape of the number three. A plastic slingshot, an old cell phone charging cord that doesn't even fit any modern cell phones. And a plush, pink, stuffed rabbit.

Oh, treasure. Kevin says in a hush tone. I thought you'd like this. And you feed brood? Well, you know I'd prefer if you didn't hunt the cows anyway, but yes, Clem will feed you and you won't have any reason to leave the caverns. Kevin thinks and thinks. Why what? Isaiah asks.

You know, question asked before. You mean why does the brood have to stay in the caverns? Yes, good question, but no trade. Good question, no trade, yeah. Isaiah does his own thinking. Um, well, in a way, you and the brood are like family. Brood is family. No, I mean, you are like part of our family, the Rushfield family.

Brood is Rushfield? Sorta. Sorta. Kevin snores, and Isaiah has to hold his hand up to keep from getting dragons snot on his face. He wipes his hand on his jeans. Okay, yeah, brood is Rushfield. This good! Kevin exclaims, and his voice booms and echoes through the caverns.

Brude stay. I was getting to that. The brood house to stay because you'll get taken away or worse. Taken from home caves, from pool? Yes. What worse than brew taken from home gave from pool? Well, they could kill you. RBC Training Ground has discovered potential in over 20,000 Canadian athletes and county.

Your story could be next. If you've got the drive, they'll help you find your path to the Olympics. Let's see what you've got. Sign up for free at rBC training ground.ca. Kevin's eyes flash red, and he goes silent, then settles back into the water. After a moment, he says, Who kill brood? Government agents.

Kingsmen? Kevin scoffs. Not Kingsmen. Government agents. They don't answer to a king. They answer to the president. Yes. Yes, well, it's not that simple. Very simple. Except they have weapons. Swords hurt, little.

Guns. Guns? Fire sticks like Rushfields show rude. Yeah, fire sticks. Big fire sticks. Dangerous fire sticks. Fire sticks that can kill the brood. Fire sticks kill brood.

Those very big fire sticks. That bad. Very bad. Another good question. Isaiah holds up his hand. No trade. Kevin sighs. Answer, good question.

Honestly. I don't know. Just some contacts I have in Washington let me know that ICE was on its way, and they weren't looking for illegals. Contacts. People I know. Friends. Isaiah laughs. Not even close. Trust. Pay. Trade. Sort of, yes. Contacts say presidents men look for brood and fruid in danger. Yes. I think the government is working with a different organization, but I'm not sure.

Doesn't matter. Ice came by the house tonight. I got them to leave, but they will come back again. Ice? Kevin laughs. The brood not scared of ice. No, not that kind of ice. I-C-E. They enforce immigration in customs, which, in a way, the brood qualifies for both. You illegally immigrated and granddaddy broke customs laws by illegally importing you. They have a case. Not that our lawyers won't bury them in red tape. Red tape? Blood tape? No, just a saying. Blood tape better than saying.

Can't argue that. Kevin nods, splashing water up onto Isaiah's boots. He shakes them off, then shines the flashlight around the pool. Where is everybody? Sleep. Lazy brood. And I bet a hungry brood. I'll talk to Clem, and we'll get that cattle for you.

Maybe tomorrow night. Maybe the next night. So ice doesn't see us. Well, let's not melt this ice. If we do that, then more government men will show up with even bigger guns. We'll leave ice alone. Isaiah touches the dollar store gifts with the boot of his toe. Enjoy the treasure. I'll see you tomorrow or the next day.

Thanks, Kevin. I appreciate you. The dragon slips back into the pool and swims off into the darkness. Isaiah makes his way back to the Jeep and heads home. He dreads the mood his sister will be in. The next morning, when Clem tells him the bad news, Isaiah has to force himself not to throw his coffee cup against the kitchen wall. What do you mean you'll let the trailer? he asks Clem. A man his daddy had hired to oversee the land. Clem has been with the Rushfields for decades, and it's only that history that keeps Isaiah from going completely nuts on the man.

When will we get it back? Oh, not for a good couple weeks at best, Mr. Rushfield. says, his dusty cowboy had in his hands. Morgan Snails has to take a load of cattle up to Kansas City for auction. Why, KC? This isn't the 1950s? Some special event. For his breed of cattle, it looks like he could make a killing. If he stuck to Longhorns like any good Texan, then he wouldn't need to go to KC. Yes, true, sir. But he doesn't raise Longhorns, and he is in KC.

So, no trailer. Don't we have two? The other one is in town being fixed. Cracked Axel. How long will that take? A couple weeks. Lewis is waiting on a part. He's waiting for weeks?

Well, his son is getting married to that pretty little Halston girl next Friday. So he's taking some time off. Well, do you have any ideas? We'll rent one. We're going to rent a trailer when we own two. They ain't available, so yeah, that's what we're going to do. Unless you want to drive the cattle to the caverns, I do want to drive them. No, I mean horses, old school.

Horses hate going near the caverns, same with cattle. They smell the brood. It's why we need the trailer. Otherwise, the cattle and the horses will spook, and we'll spend more time chasing stray cows than feeding the brood. Which is why we rent. Isaiah dumps his coffee in the sink and looks out the window at the brown landscape

that stretches for miles upon miles. Okay, he says and faces Clem. Pull the truck around front. I'll see if Tanya wants to go into town for anything. Tanya does not want to go into town for anything. After yelling at Isaiah again about how she was accosted by ice, she slams her bedroom door in his face

and screams for him to leave her alone for the rest of their lives. Isaiah knows she'll be over it by dinner. But still, getting reamed by Tanya is never fun. When Clem pulls the truck into the gravel parking lot of the equipment rental place, Isaiah's stomach crawls up into his throat. What do you think the feds are doing here? Clem asks, eyeing the two ICE SUVs that are parked in front of the rental building. Nothing good, Isaiah says in points.

Park over there. We'll go in the side door. Clem does as he's told, and parks off to the side. He whistles when they step out of the truck's cool AC and into the hot summer heat. Gonna be a scorcher today, that's for sure. Isaiah's focused on the task at hand and doesn't respond. When he opens the side door, he takes a quick glance around, but doesn't see Agent Fleischer or any ice agents milling about. Isaiah makes a B-line for the service counter.

Hey, Mr. Rushfield. The young clerk says, How can I help you today? Need to rent that 20-foot gooseneck trailer you got parked out front, Donnie. And we're in a bit of a hurry. No problem, Mr. Rushfield. Donnie says. I'll ring you up right now.

You need any help? Isaiah looks over his shoulder at Clem. The man shakes his head. Then he looks past Clem's shoulder and sees Agent Fleischer standing over by the side door, watching them. The man locks eyes with Isaiah and then nods. Clem's got it.

Isaiah says when he's. turns back to Donnie. What's the damage? I'll go get it hitched, Clem says. Isaiah nods without looking back. He doesn't want to lock eyes with Fleischer again. How many days? Donnie asks.

Then he glances past Isaiah and says, I'll be right with you, sir. No hurry. Now Agent Fleischer's voice comes from right behind Isaiah. Isaiah still doesn't turn around. Two days, Isaiah says and taps his fingers on the counter. I'm still in a hurry, Donnie. Right, Mr. Rushfield, sorry.

The young man says as he pecks at his computer keyboard. Two days for the 20-foot gooseneck will be $2,0.42.8. Throw it on our account, please. Of course, Mr. Rushfield. Anything else? That'll do it, Donnie. Thanks. You bet, Mr. Rushfield. You have a great day. You too, Donnie. I can help you now, sir.

Donnie says, again looking past Isaiah's shoulder. Oh, I'm good. Just going to have a chat with Mr. Rushfield here, Agent Fleischer says. Isaiah reluctantly turns around and faces the ice agent. Before he can say anything, Fleischer says, Got that full warrant on the way, Mr. Rushfield. Be seeing you and your entire 18,000 acres very soon.

We'll see about that, Isaiah says, and walks by Fleischer. Have a good day, Agent Fleischer. When Isaiah gets back to the truck, Clem has the trailer attached, and the engine running. Go, Isaiah says, and Clem pulls out onto the highway and aims the truck and trailer for home. After the sun has set, Clem and three ranch hands drive the trailer out to the parcel where they're pasturing the cattle that week.

He and the hands load up ten head of cattle before slamming the back gate shut and heading off toward the caverns. Isaiah meets them at the mouth of the caverns in his Jeep. Any problems? He asks Clem when he hops out and approaches the trailer. Nope. Were you expecting there to be? No, but you never know. The ranch hands shuffle nervously.

They know what they're doing? Isaiah asks Clem, eyeing the ranch hands. I've told them what they need to know. But for their sanity, if they don't know the full details. Very true, Isaiah says, and claps his hands together. Then let's get to it. Clem orders the ranch hands to unload the cattle. Isaiah watches from his Jeep.

His eyes, studying the nighttime landscape. There's a few coyotes let loose with their mournful howls, but that's about all the action Isaiah notices. Then, once the cattle are unloaded, and Clem and the ranch hands are busy trying to get the cows to go toward the caverns, a task that proves to be a little difficult, Isaiah thinks he sees a flash of light off toward the horizon.

He stands up in his Jeep and stares hard. He sees it again, and, in seconds, the flash of light becomes a steady beam, or beams, as the case may be. Company, Isaiah says, hopping down out of his Jeep. He reaches into the backseat and grabs his 30-a-30 that he brought along. He doubts he'll need the rifle, but this is Texas after all. You show strength at all times, or you get stampeded into the dust. We'll have the cattle in the caverns in about ten minutes, Clem says.

Isaiah eyes the process and doubts that assessment. The cows are really fighting their fate. Minutes go by, and the headlights get closer and closer, until they are close enough that Isaiah can hear the tires and engines of the SUVs. The ICE SUVs. Clem in the hands have just gotten the cattle into the caverns when the SUVs come to a stop behind the trailer. Mr. Rushfield, Flesher calls out, hidden from sight by the bright headlights. I see you have a rifle in your hands.

Care to set that down, please? Just exercise in my Second Amendment rights, Agent Fleischer. Understood, but I'd feel more comfortable if you set it down. I'd hate for any misunderstandings or accidents to happen. I know how to handle a rifle agent. If there are any misunderstandings or accidents, it will be on your part. Very well, have it your way. Wouldn't have it any other way.

Agent Fleischer leads six ice agents out of the glare of the headlights and over to Isaiah. Fletcher holds out a folded piece of paper. Your warrant, everything is in order. We have the authority to search every square inch of this land. He looks past Isaiah. Including these caverns here. Care to tell me what's in there, Mr. Rushfield? Maybe save us a lot of trouble and needless work.

I'm not here to make your job easier, Isaiah says and nods at the warrant. I can go to my lawyers. I'm not touching it. Whether you touch it or not, it's an active warrant, and valid. Good for you. A loud moo rings out, and a cow comes running out of the caverns. Isaiah lets out a slow breath.

Have barns become too expensive? Using caves now? Agent Fleischer laughs. Doesn't seem very efficient. Two more cows come running out of the caverns. Clem, and two of the ranch hands are right behind the cows. But they aren't chasing the animals. They're fleeing from something. Isaiah knows what they're fleeing from.

What happened? Isaiah asks. Milo picked up a piece of their treasure. Clem shouts as he hurries to the truck. We need to go, Mr. Rushfield. They aren't happy. Where's Milo now? In there, and he ain't coming out.

Clem says, hopping from foot to foot. I ain't shitting you, Mr. Rushfield. We need to leave. A loud roar comes from the caverns. Isaiah has never once heard the dragon's roar. He looks at Agent Fleischer. I know you have a job to do, and what I'm about to say won't mean.

a hill of beans to you, but you and your men need to leave. Isaiah lowers his rifle and nods at the warrant again. That won't save you. Load your people up and head back to wherever you're staying. We can let the lawyers handle this mess. That's not going to happen, Mr. Rushfield, Agent Fleischer says. We'll be going in those caverns now. Another roar rings out, and it is even closer this time.

Do you hear that Fleischer? That's not a pack of illegals you can harass and intimidate. That's death on four legs. Agent Fleischer shrugs. Jesus! Well, your funeral. Isaiah rushes to the Jeep and throws the rifle in the backseat. When he turns around, Clem and the two ranch hands are standing there.

The SUVs are blocking the trailer. I can't get it turned around, Clem says. Leave it and get in! Isaiah orders. A third roar erupts from the caverns, and Clem and the ranch hands do not hesitate. They are in the Jeep in a blink. As Isaiah drives off, he catches side of four.

Fleischer and his men checking their weapons, then walking toward the mouth of the caverns. The gunfire starts up almost immediately. Isaiah presses down on the gas pedal and doesn't look back again, even when the gunfire stops and the screams begin. He warned Agent Flecher, so he has no guilt over their fate. When Isaiah and Clem go out to the caverns the next day, all that's left to Fleischer and his men are a pile of scorched skeletons. No weapons or equipment are found anywhere. Isaiah has a feeling those were collected and added to the brood's treasure. Damn, Clem says, kicking the still-smoking femur of one of the agents.

Burn their uniforms to ash. He looks at Isaiah. I don't think lawyers can fix this. You don't need to fix what can't be found, Isaiah says, and stares into the darkness of the caverns. Get those two men back out here and drag what's left of the bodies deep into the caves. Will they accept them? Tell the brood they are gifts. Kevin likes gifts. What about the SUVs? What about the warrant?

I'll take care of all that, Isaiah says, just like my daddy did before me and my granddaddy did before him. Isaiah sighs and looks up into the milky blue sky. This ain't the first time the Rushfields have dealt with government men. He looks back at the cavern. And it won't be the last, I'm sure. SCP 7088 is an anomalous, cave-dwelling genus of amphibian, found primarily in northern Europe, especially Great Britain. These creatures resemble oversized salamanders with vestigial wings, leathery skin, and serpentine spine, exhibiting remarkable intelligence and the ability to comprehend basic human speech due to their unusually high-brain-body ratio.

Each specimen features a unique, luminous organ, which allows them to project, speech directly into the minds of observers, typically living in broods of five to ten within secluded caves. SCP 7088 surfaces rarely to feed, usually only twice a year, preferring livestock and crops over their original diet of deer and plants, which has raised concerns about their secrecy since human settlement of the region.